The howling wind in the trees jars him awake every night at 3am, scraggly, leafless branches scratching against the windows and walls of his dirty attic room.
Damn wind! he mutters as he lies on the lumpy, twin mattress, staring up at the ceiling for the third week. Night after night! He envisions a tiny adobe hut in the middle of the desert, the nearest tree miles away in downtown Scottsdale
***
The coyotes howling at the moon jar him awake every night at 3am...
— • — • —
My entry in the 100 Words Challenge, with the prompt, "jars."
Insomnia, a muse I know well.
ReplyDeleteLove the picture these 100 words draw. I think we've all been there in one shape or another. Great job!
ReplyDeleteI'm rather familiar with that particular muse myself. Coyotes, though, now that's almost worth it.
ReplyDelete